Have Yourself A Merry Christmas
by unicyclehippo
Summary: Christmas comes to Storybrooke and Emma and Regina find their relationship becoming more pleasant. Swan Mills Christmas story. -evolved from messages I sent as part of Swen secret santa, published with permission-


**Have Yourself A Merry Christmas**

**I don't own Once Upon A Time.**

**This is a series of one shots, vaguely consecutive, about Christmas with the Charmings, Emma, and the Mills. Ends up SwanQueen. They were originally for jaredscottgilmores on tumblr (who is lovely, do follow them) (previously fortyfournottellingyoustreet) and were my secret santa gifts for them. I'm posting these with their permission. I edited and changed some just a little bit though.**

**Please enjoy. **

109 Mifflin Street was home to three very different souls. Christmas brought out the wistful in each of them and, by coincidence, one night in December each witness a star falling from the sky. Regina wished, unknowingly, for love. Emma, acceptance and belonging. And Henry wished for a family. And that pure, kind Christmas magic was touched by the pain and suffering and want and worked to bring about a little joy that season.

* * *

"Hang it over that branch there, Miss Swan." Regina was in charge of the decorating and, when Emma had made it clear that she would _please_ like to spend some time with her son, Regina had the delightful idea of using her for all the less enjoyable tasks. "Drape it, Miss Swan! I prefer my tinsel to look like snow or icicles. Not silver projectile vomit!"

Emma's hands clenched on the tinsel and she tried again to drape it. _Imagine the snow_, Emma thought to herself. _Ignore Regina and forget daydreaming about punching her. Forget that your arms are sore because of all the weeding you did. Drape it_. _You can do this_.

"My god," Regina muttered, irritated by Emma's slow pace. "It's as if you'd never done this before."

Emma didn't say anything. Her jaw clenched tightly and she forced herself to continue ignoring the other woman. _For Henry_, she reminded herself. Though really, she hadn't spent all that much time with him yet.

It wasn't until Emma was trying to hang the baubles that Regina realised exactly how much truth there was to her statement. A small 'oh' escaped her and she frowned, taking in Emma's shaking hands and careful movements. Clearly, she didn't want to break anything. Regina considered mocking the woman but instead found herself moving to stand next to her. She coaxed the bauble out of Emma's hands and demonstrated, looping the hanging bauble onto the branch. "Just like that," she said. "Don't clump them. We want them evenly placed over the tree."

Emma nodded and worked in silence next to Regina. At the end, when they stepped away and looked over their tree, Emma thought it looked pretty good. Shining and glittering with promise. She glanced sideways at the darker woman. "Regina?" Regina raised an eyebrow when Emma self-consciously tucked her hands in her pockets. "Don't tell Henry? Please?"

"You underestimate him," Regina said carefully, "if you think he doesn't already know." Emma just stared at her resolutely and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "But very well. I won't mention it to him."

Throughout the day, Regina tried not to stare. She couldn't help it though as so she hid her staring with glares or by 'checking on Miss Swan's shoddy workmanship' or by being just plain sneaky. What was she staring at? Mostly it was that little smile that Emma's mouth held so protectively. When she was with Henry or her parents it was cheerful. When she was alone, hopeful. When she drifted away, thinking about god knows what, it had the tendency to be a little sad. Regina found she didn't like it when Emma's smile was sad and so, come evening, Regina unwrapped the precious golden star and stared at it.

"Would you like to put the star on top…Emma?" At the sound of her name – her actual name, not 'Miss Swan' as she was used to coming from Regina – Emma stared at the woman. So did Henry.

At Henry's incredulous "Mom? Why'd you call her Emma?" and the weight of Emma's stare, Regina frowned. She stood and pushed the star into Emma's hands before moving to the side, crossing her arms grumpily.

"I can be generous," she said, then sniffed with indignation. "Consider that my Christmas spirit." Emma beamed at her, unknowingly soothing Regina's hurt, and stood on her tiptoes to place the star. She fixed it, a touch of perfectionism showing itself, and when she was done Regina nodded, Henry clapped, and Emma didn't stop smiling for a long time.

* * *

Later that week, the real Christmas spirit began. Namely, the rush and worry of the giving season. While most citizens of Storybrooke were content to wander around the town and make something for their loved ones or find them a little something here or there, there were others that went above and beyond.

So, it was three am when Mary Margaret woke Emma. The blonde groaned and slumped her way downstairs, held upright by her mother tugging on her arm.

"Alright," the perky brunette said, "we have a thermos of coffee, some bear claws, a jacket for warmth, and we charged your phone." She handed Emma the bundle before reaching for the last item. "Emma, this is the list. Don't lose it." She stuffed the list into Emma's hands and, seeing the blurry eyes and hearing her groaning, put a copy into each jacket pocket and another in Emma's bag just to be on the safe side.

"Why me?" Emma whined, already clutching and sipping the coffee.

"Emma," Mary Margaret scolded, "you are the only one who can cross the town line. You have to do this for the good of your people!" And with a shove to the shoulders and a final goodbye hug, Mary Margaret set her daughter off on a dangerous quest to find all the items Storybrooke had requested for Christmas.

* * *

"How was your shopping trip, Miss Swan?" Regina asked in that smoky, I'm-so-amused-by-myself, smirking manner of hers. Emma glared at her.

"I have bruises," she said. "Everywhere." Regina smirked again. "How come _I_ had to do all the shopping? Did you know Leroy yelled at me because I had to get his present in red instead of blue? He threw a candy cane at me," she said. "I think it's still stuck in my hair." She pouted and dropped down onto the couch. "Your curse majorly sucks," she said but there was no accusation or anger in her words, just a light sort of humour. Regina counted it as her gift.

* * *

Regina didn't expect for Henry's "I want Christmas with _both_ my moms" to teach her anything new about Emma Swan. She knew exactly as much as she needed – that she was brash, irresponsible, barely educated, and a family-wrecker – or so she thought.

But, when Henry let Emma in so the blonde woman could wrap her presents in the secrecy of Regina's office – something that said woman allowed but only just, and at first she hovered over the other woman to make sure nothing was touched or broken – she was surprised.

Each present that the woman placed under Regina's tree was, in short, perfect. It was a shock but she assumed that those had been wrapped in store. When she went to berate Emma, however, for taking her sweet time and to tell her to get the hell out of her office thank you very much, she understood. They weren't wrapped in store. Emma Swan was just fastidious in her wrapping. It was an odd thought for Regina – wasn't this the woman that could barely dress herself? And yet she couldn't deny that it was Emma wrapping them…and they were beautifully done.

She watched, quiet, as Emma knelt over one of her last presents. She slowly measured out the length of the paper. Then the scissors came out and Emma settled herself on the floor, poking her tongue out as she snipped incredibly carefully along the line she had marked. The present was placed carefully, the paper folded precisely and taped down carefully. Even the card that went along with it was written in incredible, and very beautiful, script rather than the scrawl Regina normally saw on her reports. It was fascinating.

"What do you think?" Emma asked, holding up the present. Regina supposed she shouldn't be surprised that Emma knew she was there – she might be a Queen, but Emma was a sheriff and a saviour and was probably used to keeping an eye out for enemies. Particularly, Regina added in her mind, because of her upbringing. A touch of guilt alerted her that this was a bad road to go down and she managed a small smile for the blonde woman.

"It's perfect," she admitted. She didn't hate saying it as much as she thought she would and felt even less upset about admitting it when a cautious and then radiant smile lit up Emma's face.

"Thanks. My first time, you know? I wanted to get it right." Regina nodded at that. It explained the fastidious nature of her actions – anxiety drove it. "Do you, do you think they'll like it?"

Regina nodded again and, even when she saw that the card was addressed to Snow and David, she said "Yes. It looks wonderful." She put aside her hatred for all things Charming and walked over to her own present wrapping station. Regina fished out some ribbon that would complement the wrapping paper well and offered it to Emma. The blonde lit up again with a beaming smile.

"Hey, thanks Regina!"

* * *

Emma wasn't sure about this. She really wasn't sure about this. Mary Margaret and David had reluctantly – after much prompting from their daughter and grandson – invited Regina over for a Christmas dinner. It was on the 23rd but Christmas Eve Henry would spend with Regina and Christmas would be spent altogether (which promised to be interesting given the company) so the 23rd seemed right.

The reason Emma wasn't sure about this dinner – the idea for which _she_ had introduced to her parents for gods sake – was because something was different. She could deal with snarky Regina. She could deal with Evil Queen Regina. Mayor Regina was no problem and angry Regina was a walk in the park. But recently, maybe due to all this Christmassy crap, something had changed and Regina was…curious. It made Emma nervous.

So when Mary Margaret called up the stairs in a cool voice that Regina had arrived, Emma sucked in a deep breath and prepared herself. She had to treat Regina just like normal. Everything would go back to the way it was.

Thus, the dinner went off without a hitch. Emma was surprised that no fights broke out and nothing was cursed, but pleased. Regina was cold to the Charmings – no surprises there – but she was so vibrant and bright-eyed and smiling with Henry. That wasn't a surprise, Emma knew that Regina loved her son, but it was odd that she let others see her love. It was strange. And heartwarming and unrelenting and precious. What the hell, why not go along with this curious, happy Regina? It wasn't like she was hurting anyone and Emma like that. She also liked that, when Regina caught her staring, she extended that smile to her and it was only slightly dimmed.

Emma raised her glass in a toast and smiled back.

* * *

For the record, Emma didn't mean to wake Regina up so late on Christmas Eve but she did and she was sorry for that. But it was super important.

"What?" Regina grumbled into the phone.

"Oh. Sorry." Emma's mind blanked for a moment because she realised she'd just woken up Regina…and for her to be woken up, she had to be asleep. And to be asleep, she probably had to be in a bed. And –

"Miss Swan, I would very much like to go back to sleep so if you would kindly tell me _why_ you called?" Emma refocused on the matter at hand when Regina snarked into the phoneline.

"Right. Does Henry believe in Santa?"

* * *

Regina, come Christmas morning, didn't know what to expect given the conversation she'd had with Emma last night about Santa. She didn't expect to see one sleeping Emma on her couch at five am. The boots she wore – two sizes too big – were covered in fake snow which had been used to create dusty footprints on the floor in front of the fire place. Regina suspected, given how invested Emma was in the holiday and getting it exactly right, that she might find footprints on the roof as well.

"Emma?" she murmured. _Be nice, it's Christmas_, she told herself and ignored how entirely easily it was. "Emma," she said again, shaking the womans shoulder lightly. "If you don't wish to ruin the illusion, I would suggest removing the boots and washing your face." When she left Emma, the blonde stood groggily and did as she was told. She padded after Regina into the kitchen. "Coffee?" Emma grumbled an affirmative but didn't speak until she'd finished her first cup.

Her words were quiet but heartfelt. "Merry Christmas, Regina."

"Merry Christmas, Emma," the woman answered after a moment.

They sat in companionable silence for a time until Emma began to fidget. "So," she said. Regina raised an eyebrow. "Should we wake him up?"

Emma was surprised when Regina laughed – it was a lovely sound – and more so when she shook her head no. "Absolutely not," Regina said firmly but not without humour. "He won't sleep until two tomorrow morning. Rest now while you can." She sipped delicately at her coffee. "You may nap in the guest room, if you wish."

Emma pondered the suggestion for a moment but decided that she quite liked the quiet and the still and, yes, even Regina and her company. "Nah. This is nice."

Regina nodded her acceptance of that and gestured for Emma to stand and follow her. She moved into the living room to sit on the couch and admire both the tree and the presents beneath it. Seated thus, Emma on the same couch but with plenty of space between them, Regina pondered this arrangement.

A week ago, she would have incinerated anyone who told her that she would willingly spend time with _Emma Swan_ on Christmas morning. She felt tempted to incinerate herself when she realised that she was quite enjoying it – and not just because Emma was quiet for once but also because her curls looked quite lovely this morning and she was being friendly. She didn't feel up to being incinerated this particular Christmas morning so she ignored her own clamorous thoughts and settled farther into the cushioned seat with a sigh.

"You did an excellent job with the tree, Emma."

* * *

It was after Regina had left to prepare a platter of Christmas goodies for Henry when he woke that Emma let herself do something she thought was a little silly.

The lights were twinkling invitingly and the baubles on the tree were silver and glittering and beautiful. She gently manoeuvred herself so she was lying on the ground under the tree, staring up into the decorated branches and coloured lights. _Beautiful_, she thought. Only one thing could make this more Christmassy, she knew, and before thinking it out rationally, carols began to roll off her tongue without her explicit permission. She kept the songs very, very quiet and hoped that she wasn't annoying Regina.

It was somewhere between the third and the fifth carol that a feeling began to bear down on Emma. This was odd, she realised. Far, _far_ too odd. This whole Christmas thing.

She tore herself away from under the branches and stood quickly. Turning, she came face to face with Regina.

"Emma? Are you okay?" There was concern in that voice and those eyes and all Emma could do was run. Christmas was supposed to be about family and when had she ever had a family? And why did she have a suffocating and overwhelming feeling that this Christmas – where she'd decorated a tree and bought presents and found family – was about to come crashing down around her?

She couldn't do it, any of it. She wasn't made for happy families. Emma choked a laugh. She was that gift that no one wanted but were too polite to say so until after the giver was gone. Well, that was easy fixed. All Emma had to do was leave first and save Regina the embarrassment of telling her to leave, save her parents the same trouble.

Back in the Mills home, Regina didn't understand what had happened other than Emma had run out of the house under doing perfectly normal Christmas-like things such as sitting under the tree and crooning soft and admittedly pleasant carols. She stared at the door Emma had disappeared out of and blinked once, then twice.

"Mom?" came a sleep voice. "Can you go after her so I can open presents?" Regina smiled at Henry. Trust him to value his gifts so much. "And so we can eat breakfast." He yawned and leant against the wall.

Regina tugged him into her chest, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. She still couldn't believe sometimes – all right, all the time – that he let her do that now. And, after telling Henry not to break anything and not to shake the gifts and try to guess the presents, Regina followed Emma out into the snow.

* * *

Waiting, you know, implies an end to the waiting. Something that one is anticipating will come along and it will be as though that time was simply bated breath, a pause, a blink of the eyes between moments, the shutter of the camera as it tried to capture those moments. Emma didn't expect Regina to be the end of her waiting. Or did she? Because she found that she wasn't wholly surprised when the woman was standing in front of her with that inscrutable perfect face of hers or when she deigned to sit with her in the cold.

Regina sneered at the snow and magicked a barrier around her so it wouldn't dare fall on her. It was far too cold for that. After a moment, she extended that barrier to encompass Emma as well. Not that the woman had reacted to her presence. She'd looked up at her, certainly, but done nothing more. And Regina had had to sit on the ground! She sniffed and drew her coat more tightly around her waist. This was highly unusual and uncomfortable for her. Emma had better be aware that a Queen didn't do this for just _anyone._

They sat in silence for an indiscernible time.

"I suppose I can ignore this," Regina said finally, breaking the silence, "because of your genetic failings. You had no choice in the matter, I know." Emma tilted her head to the side. "The two idiots," Regina clarified. "Your parents. So I can't be surprised that you would try to pull off something as completely stupid as this." Emma turned then – good. Regina wanted some reaction from her. Emma's eyes flashed with something but though Regina looked closely, she couldn't quite make out what she was feeling. "Running out without a coat? You'll get sick."

As it turned out, Emma did have some control over her magic. She blinked her eyes and a coat settled over her shoulders in a plume of white-gold smoke. She directed a tiny smile at Regina. "Happy now?" she murmured. "You can leave."

Regina tsked a disagreement. "I'm afraid I can't. You see, we have left a ravenous teenager in the house and he wishes to eat with you. With both of us. I can't bear the thought of him dying of starvation if we don't return immediately."

And perhaps those were the wrong words to have chosen because Emma tensed and turned away. Again.

Regina's features tightened a little, a little out of annoyance that this was proving so difficult but then, and far stronger, with guilt. She stared thoughtfully at the back of Emma's head.

Emma was feeling something, obviously. Regina didn't quite know what it was that she was feeling but it had to be strong and debilitating and anxiety-inducing and most likely soul-crushing. But Regina knew how strong Emma was. She'd saved Regina from her own soul-crushing demon – quite literally. Well, Regina didn't like being in debt. So she did as Emma had done the day the wraith had come for her and she offered her a hand. A metaphorical hand.

"Emma," she called softly. "Do you believe in magic?" The blonde turned to her with raised brows. It had been a silly question, with both of them capable of incredible feats. Regina smiled. "I don't mean our magic," she continued.

Emma gazed at the woman who looked, oh how should she put it? Soft? More soft than she'd ever been around Emma. She was even smiling properly without any prompting from Henry.

"I mean Christmas magic." Emma couldn't help it. She scoffed at that. "You laugh," Regina said, "but who was the one singing carols and sitting under the tree this morning?" Emma tried to look away but she was caught by the look in Regina's eyes – calculating, yes, but not cruel. "You felt at peace," Regina deduced. "At home."

The word made Emma bristle and Regina knew she had to say something else, stray away from that particular topic before Emma ran away or, worse, transported herself in her agitation to Hawaii or some place else.

"Christmas is wonderfully pure and I'm afraid I feel quite out of place," the darker woman said. She was the one to turn away now, giving Emma a little space in her head to think and consider what Regina was telling her. Regina settled against the tree they were under and, when her shoulder pressed against Emma's, she didn't move away. "My magic is…darker. The intent for it comes, came," she corrected, "from an angry place. Christmas on the other hand is a time for joy." At any other time, she would have felt nauseated by the words but now, here, they felt right. And that might have been because of the bite of the snow and the faint smell on cinnamon and wood smoke on the air or it could have been the company. "It made me feel out of place and far more _angry_," she admitted. "Until Henry."

Emma's shoulders tightened and Regina, without considering the move, laid a hand on her companions knee. "He was so small," she said. The words held Emma in place. "I wanted to give him everything."

The words made Emma's chest hurt. She brought a hand up to rub at her sternum and closed her eyes against Regina's lets-rub-it-in-your-face-that-you-gave-up-your-son monologue. She hoped it wouldn't be followed by a I'm-a-better-mother-than-you speech.

"I wasn't very good at it." Hold up. That was new. "I've always found it quite necessary to protect myself. To hide." Regina chuckled at Emma's expression. Her eyes were open wide in shock. Why was she telling her this? "Christmas gave me the opportunity to give something to Henry. To show him that I cared."

Regina sunk into the memories of Henry shrieking with glee over a new game, of jumping onto her bed to wake her up, of a little hand tugging her over to the tree they had decorated together. She remembered wrapping her arms around him and all the perfect Christmas hugs, the handmade macaroni photo frame gifts, the silly dancing to Rudolph over and over again. "It was hard for me. _Love_ is hard for me." Love is weakness, they both thought. Emma nodded in understanding. "But Christmas made it easy. I didn't have to say anything but Henry just seemed to know. That was then." Regina paused. "Lately, Henry seems to recognise that I'm trying." Like the smile he gave her when she offered Snow some pudding…instead of ripping out her heart and commanding her to leave, the irritating little snitch.

"We know you're trying," Emma whispered. Regina had paused, thinking about Snow White and ripping out her heart with great fondness, and Emma had thought it a sad silence.

Regina patted Emma's knee. "That's nice, dear. But do listen. I'm not finished." She considered her next words carefully. "What I mean to say is that Christmas isn't about forgetting the darker aspects of your life but moving past them to embrace that which makes you happiest." She couldn't quite bring herself to say lighter aspects. It would do nothing for her reputation. "You don't have to talk to me, or anyone, now. But I would like it if you would come back with me and celebrate with my…_our_ son."

* * *

Henry didn't say anything when his mothers returned. He didn't ask why their coats were wet or why Emma still looked uncomfortable or why Regina was watching over his blonde mother with something that looked very much like concern and a little pride. But he did give them a scolding look and pointed into the kitchen where two huge mugs of hot chocolate were waiting, and a smaller mug of coffee for Regina who couldn't stand the chocolatey beverage. He ushered them in to indulge. No excuses.

And he did hug them very tightly and leant against Emma as they drank and chatted and delighted in the enthusiastic "Merry Christmas, Henry!" that both of his mothers gave him.

"Oh my god!" he yelled. His mothers flinched. He pretended that he didn't notice the little fireball Regina conjured or the way Emma's hand twitched toward where her gun usually sat and instead bounced on his feet. "Presents!"

They relaxed and Regina smiled fondly down at Henry. She waved him into the next room. "Go ahead, dear. I know how much you enjoy organising the gifts." And he did. Regina purposefully jumbled the presents so that Henry might enjoy separating them into piles for the receivers. He grinned happily but hesitated, looking at Emma. Regina flapped her hand at her son and so, dismissed by his mother and being beckoned by the allure of the presents, he ran out of the room.

"Are you ready, dear?" Regina asked Emma when Henry could no longer hear them. She looked over the blonde, seeing how she leant stiffly against the cupboard and clutched her mug in a death grip. Regina's voice made Emma blink and look up.

Then, before her eyes, came a miraculous transformation. Emma seemed to just shuck the weight of whatever she carried with her. She stood taller, smiled brighter, looked happier. But Regina could see it all still there in her eyes and frowned.

"Well that can't be healthy," she said.

"Hush. It's Christmas." Emma sighed. "And I don't want Henry to think I'm being a downer. Just, let me be like this," she waved at herself, at the mask she put on to hide the nerves. "Just for today. Please."

Regina nodded. "Very well."

Emma led the way into the living room and dropped onto the couch, sitting comfortably. It occurred to her that this was odd. It was Regina's home but she felt so comfortable here. That worry shot through her again but this time it was masked.

Regina surprised herself and Emma when she settled primly onto the couch next to the blonde. They didn't question it though and simply watched as Henry scrabbled under the tree to separate presents into three piles. Emma frowned. Three? Henry, obviously, had a towering pile, and Regina had a pile as well. But who was the third?

"Emma, here you go." Henry shuffled over on his knees, arms laden with gifts, and dumped them onto Emma's lap. While she was frozen in place, clutching at the presents in shock, he did the same with Regina's and then he dropped to the carpet and tugged his own pile close. "Can I start? Please?"

Regina nodded and Henry wasted no time ripping into the presents. After a moment, she turned to look at Emma who was staring at her presents. "Would you like to open those instead of fondling them, Emma?" Regina smirked. Emma was stroking the paper of the presents, following the line of the wrapping and moving over the smooth plastic tape.

Emma jerked her head up and smiled slightly. "Can I just…watch for a bit?" Her hands tightened on the presents – did she think they would be taken away? Regina wondered – and she refocused her eyes on Henry. "Is that okay?" Regina shifted a tiny fraction closer to Emma.

"Of course," she said. "But I do hope you open them eventually." She reached out and tapped one gift. "I bought you that one."

Emma's eyes flashed to Regina, wide and disbelieving. "You bought this? For me?" Regina nodded. "Oh. Well," she bit her lip and then slipped a finger beneath the wrapping. She inched it along, peeling the paper away gently. She carefully removed the tape and, not looking at the gift, folded the paper and placed it to the side. Then she returned to the present. She laid her hands on it and swallowed. It looked like a book but didn't have a title. The cover was soft and smooth. She knew what this way. "Regina?"

"Open it," Regina urged. Emma cracked it open and after a single peek she pushed it closed. "Emma?"

"Is this what I think it is?" Emma's voice asked, hoarse.

"Not originals," Regina said, a minor note of her usual snark present. "I wouldn't give you those. Copies? Yes."

Emma breathed out a shaky sigh and, swallowing, nodded. "Well. Thanks." She placed the photo album full of Henry to the side and tried her best not to look at it.

A flash of anger and hurt shot through Regina – she'd spent _hours_ on that thank you very much and the woman didn't spare it a second look – and she snapped at Emma. "Not going to even look?"

The blonde looked up and hesitantly brushed Regina's hand with her fingers. "Later," she whispered, looking remarkably unsure of herself. "I…thank you for it." Regina relaxed. "It's the most wonderful present I've ever had."

A few minutes later, Henry had ripped through all of his presents and, with all of them bundled on his lap and being hugged happily, he was agog with anticipation for his mothers to finish opening theirs.

Henry's gift to Emma, with his mothers help, was another jacket. This one was black and the softest leather she had ever felt. "D'you like it?" Henry asked when Emma didn't move. Then he found himself suddenly in a bear hug and his feet well off the ground and Emma was spinning him around.

"It's amazing!" she said. "I'm going to wear it everyday. Even to bed. I'm never taking it off!"

Regina was last. She liked the attention as all eyes watched her unwrap her presents and she liked the feeling of tearing the paper in her fingers to see what lay beneath. Henry's present was first. It was a cookbook. He blushed when the title came into view.

"It was kind of a gag gift," he said.

"One Hundred Ways to Cook Apples," Regina read aloud. "Thank you, dear." A positively evil smile crossed her face. "This reminds me. We should have your grandparents over more frequently."

There was a moment of silence before Emma snorted. She covered her face with a hand, eyes wide with embarrassment, but it had set Henry off and soon the two of them descended into uproarious laughter. Regina's lips twitched as she revelled in knowing she had made them laugh like that.

Next was Emma's gift. She had expected one – much like Emma had not expected one from her, no doubt – but this package had her name written in careful lettering and wrapped precisely as only Emma could. And Emma wasn't quite looking at her as she tore the paper away. And the blonde was blushing.

"What is this?" Regina asked quietly, not sure what she was looking at.

"Um." Emma didn't get much father before Henry explained.

"It's a schedule maker! So you can plan when I can stay over with you!"

Not long after that, Regina escaped into the kitchen. She wasn't surprised when Emma turned up a moment later.

"Regina," she said softly, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I was trying to do something nice. You're always telling me I should be more organised so I got these and I know that Henry _really_ wants to spend more time here and I know that you want him here and it was just supposed to show you that. Not," she sighed, "Not make you upset." Emma moved anxiously from foot to foot.

"I'm not upset," Regina said, not turning. "I appreciate the gesture."

Emma nodded. "So, why won't you look at me?"

"It was thoughtful," Regina said, still not turning around. "I am merely shocked that you have enough mental prowess to be thoughtful."

Emma's eyes narrowed and she took in the hunched shoulders and the soft voice. She took a step closer. "Regina," she grinned. "Are you crying?"

Regina stiffened. "Certainly not."

Emma bounced on her toes and her grin widened. "I think you are. I think my present was awesome and you're crying!"

Regina flung herself around to glare and point angrily at Emma. "You're wrong," she said. Of course, it only let Emma see the tear marks and thus prove her point.

"You know," Emma said, taking in said tear marks and Regina's inability to meet her eyes. "That was only part of the present. The second part is that some time we're going to sit down with Henry and let him decide." Regina's head came up, confused. "I'm talking who's coming to his football games, who makes dinner when, who's picking him up from school, who gets him on the weekend." Emma tilted her head in thought. "We already discussed it a bit." Regina held back her hurt and her questions but Emma saw them. "Funny thing is," she said slowly, "Henry wants to do a whole lot with us together. Is that okay?"

"I suppose that could be amenable," Regina said quietly. "Provided you learn to cook at some point."

Emma held up a present Henry had given her – Cooking for Young Children. "Baby steps," she said, looking entirely unimpressed. "Henry thought it was a good idea." Regina couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up and out of her and clamped a hand over her mouth. Emma stepped closer and reached out. She crooked a finger over Regina's palm and tugged it down and away. She hesitated. "You have a lovely laugh," she murmured.

* * *

In the end, Emma was wearing her new jacket, holding the photo album and cook book under her arm, and was asking Henry to help her put on the new necklace Ruby had given her.

"Are you going to put those down, dear?" Regina asked, coming close enough to tap the books.

Emma shook her head. "Nope. Are you?"

Regina seemed confused until she glanced down and saw that she was holding the schedule planner tightly to her chest. "Of course," she said, blushing slightly. "I was merely going to put it away."

* * *

And so Christmas day was happy and bright and filled with all those little things that make people special to one another. Not the presents – those were nice, though – but the occasional checking on Emma to make sure she was fine with the emotional overload, and the murmured thanks to Regina for the sublime meal, and the affection Henry gave his mothers. He would switch between them, being careful not to ignore either, and he let them tease him and hug him and shower him with attention. And the day was good…until the Charmings arrived that evening.

There was no way Emma would try to contain her parents. Not today. Emma knew that. Regina knew that. They both knew that she, right now on this day, couldn't stand up and tell them to back off, to be nice, to respect Regina's home. She couldn't do anything that might remotely seem like it would offend her parents or hurt their feelings. Because, well, if she hurt them then she was a bad person and a bad daughter and why would they keep her then? Which is why, when Emma gently nudged David's boots off the coffee table and shook her head no at him, Regina smiled.

They opened presents from the Charmings over an informal dinner. Snow may have been surprised by the lack of cooking Regina had done but Emma understood. Why cook when you can sit and laugh with your son? Especially since it was Christmas. So they snacked and talked and opened gifts. For Regina, a nice scarf. It was bland, mildly thoughtless, but not unkind. Regina acknowledged it with a nod.

For Emma, well. The excitement of giving her their gift lift up David and Snow's face and they shifted so they could hold one of Emma's hands. "Emma," David said very seriously.

Regina's stomach sank. She had a bad feeling about what was coming. She suspected that Emma had the same feeling because she saw that the blonde woman was digging her fingernails into her own thigh underneath the table. Regina subtly reached out and tapped that hand, silently telling her to let go. Emma squeezed the seat of her chair instead. The knuckles of her hand were still white but she wasn't hurting herself so Regina allowed it.

"Emma," Snow said. "We're trying for a baby!" Snow exclaimed loudly. "You're going to have a little brother or sister." The woman squealed. "Isn't that wonderful?"

There was a moment of horrifying, sickening silence in which the pit of Regina's stomach dropped and her mind was sent spinning, cartwheeling, away. Her face went ashen and, when she looked at her son, she saw that he was looking at her with more worry than he should know. Regina guessed he was even more observant than she knew, if he knew that this could hurt Emma so badly.

Emma, unlike Regina and her son, merely blinked before beaming at her parents. "That's so amazing!"

* * *

Regina was right about most things, especially to do with Henry. He didn't go to bed until well into the next morning as she had predicted. Regina had persuaded and fidgeting Emma to stay over for the night but by eight am she was gone. Regina was disappointed that she hadn't stayed – which caused her a mild shock, wondering when she had changed to _wanting_ Emma Swan around – and was surprised by a small silver key and the note left on her dresser.

'Regina', the note read, 'this is your second present from me. It's my home key. It's not for anything weird, I promise, but I know it sucks to not be able to see Henry if you need to or if you're scared or something. So come over whenever. Emma.'

* * *

Regina thought that Emma had run away because it was two whole days before she returned to the Mills home. She loitered at the door when Henry sprinted in. He dropped his bag on the way and kicked off his shoes. Emma followed him in to tidy up after him, knowing how much Regina hated the idea of shoes left on the stairs or a bag someone could trip over.

"Thank you, dear," came that voice from the top of the stairs. Emma looked up and couldn't look away. Regina, smirking, strutted down to her and closed Emma's mouth for her with a tap of her index finger to the blonde's jaw. "See something you like, Sheriff?"

Emma began to nod, dumbfounded in Regina's presence. It was probably the perfume that had her so entranced. Or the tight clothes. Or the, the, you know. Plunging neckline. Or maybe it was the little frivolous smile that sparkled with mischief rather than malice and the eyes that were a perfect shade of brown and lit up when she saw Emma. Maybe that was why she was speechless and motionless. Whatever the reason, Emma shook out of it, nodded, and took Regina's hand to help her down the remainder of the stairs.

"You look nice," Emma managed to choke out. "Beautiful, really." She blushed. Then she blushed harder because when Regina walked away from her into the kitchen, her eyes trailed down to watch her walk.

"It's about time you got here," Regina called over her shoulder. "I might have started missing you."

"Yeah, well," Emma nervously scratched her neck. "Leroy got a little _too_ happy yesterday and made some trouble." She grinned. "Sheriff, you know?" She tapped the badge, just to clarify.

"Of course," Regina murmured. "Well, at any rate, I merely wished to return your favour." Emma's eyes widened. She was returning the key? Did she hate her that much? But then Regina was pressing a bronze key – hers was silver, Emma was confused – into her palm and smiling at her. "This is my home key. You are welcome here." She turned away and then, a moment later, turned back. "Your parents," she hurried to elaborate, "are _not_ welcome."

Emma smiled. "What a pity. I thought you loved having them over." Emma pressed her lips together to resist smiling at Regina. She shouldn't encourage the mocking of her parents, she really shouldn't. "I'll be over here all the time," she assured Regina. "Thanks." She grinned. "That way when they look for me at my place, they won't find me."

"But I'm sure," Regina drawled, "they'll find you somehow. They will find a way – they will always find you." That, said with disgust dripping from every word, elicited a very unladylike snort from Emma.

Emma blushed and shook her head hard. "Stop," she begged. "Come on, that's not nice. They can't help being sappy and gross."

"Nice?" Regina drew herself to her full height – still an inch or so shorter than Emma without her heels – and sneered. "I'm the Evil Queen, dear. It's not in my nature to be _nice_."

Emma grinned a quirky, lopsided grin and wrinkled her nose. "I'm sorry, I just can't see it. I just see Regina." She pursed her lips. "Maybe it's just not as impressive in your mayor clothes."

Regina huffed, though she was secretly thrilled that Emma saw her as just Regina, and puffed a purple cloud around her body. "A wardrobe change then, my dear." And what a wardrobe change it was. Dark and mysterious and alluring. "Does _this_ suit your image of the Evil Queen?"

Emma just nodded, speechless once more.

"Mooooooooom," Henry called from up the stairs. "What are you doing?"

"Just threatening your mother, dear," Regina called back to Henry, a smile playing at her lips. Emma immediately opened her mouth to tell Henry that she was kidding and she was fine but Regina held up a finger, shaking her head.

"Kay. Can Emma play video games with me now?" Emma's eyes widened – Henry had just accepted that? Without freaking out or calling his mom evil? Regina looked utterly pleased and Emma, without thinking as was her way of doing everything, swept her into a spontaneous hug.

"That's amazing," she whispered.

Regina swallowed and pulled away from Emma slowly. "Yes. Well." She stared and Emma stared back. They hadn't been this close in, well, ever. Not really. They weren't trying to kill or manipulate each other right now and that was nice. Emma's hand on Regina's hips were nice too and Regina's hands on Emma's arms and the kind of comfortable/uncomfortable air to the embrace that was on the border of we are friends and something more, well, that was nice too.

And then there was Henry, standing in the door with sceptical narrowed eyes and a pout. "Are you gonna stand there or come play games with me?"

* * *

In the following days, Emma thought about that moment and every moment with Regina after that. She couldn't explain what it was drawing them together. Henry, obviously, was one reason. He wasn't subtle with his nudging and winking and plotting. But it was more than that. It was more to do with the understanding of one another. The understanding used to let them needle and hurt and make the other flinch but now it let them sit together and actually talk . Neither had had that before and it was just…nice. Or maybe, Emma thought laughingly, it was the magic of Christmas Regina had been so certain of.

* * *

A few nights later, Emma dropped to the floor in front of Regina.

"You do know there is space on the couch, dear," she heard Regina offer, amused.

Emma hummed an acknowledgement. The wine made her thoughts a little fuzzy but also easier to access. She took a moment to arrange them. "I like the floor," she said lazily, lying back onto the plush carpet. "Anyone can sit on your couch but the floor is," she paused. "Familiar. Means you like me." She reached for her glass and sipped. "I like it."

Regina smiled fondly at the blonde. "Very well."

"Hey, Regina?" Emma asked a few minutes later. "Do you think Henry realises he's being, like, _super_ obvious with his matchmaking?" Emma asked when she had a lot more wine in her system. Regina hesitated before turning it into a joke.

"He's never been particularly subtle," she said. "I knew almost every time that he was running away to see you. He would always be clutching that book of his – it was rather obvious." Emma snorted. "Besides, he's just happy to see us getting along. It's nothing more."

Emma's eyes opened and she sighed. She propped herself up and asked, "What if it was?" Regina looked closely and realised that Emma was quite intoxicated. How could she know if she was serious?

"Emma," Regina started.

Emma's hands convulsively closed on the carpet, gripping it tight. She shook her head. "Just hear me out first, then if you want you can reject me." Regina said nothing. "I like you. I think you're funny and smart and a wonderful mother. You're a little bit mean," that was the alcohol making it easier to be honest, "but it's usually when people deserve it and I kind of like it. I'm not saying that I love you yet but I think you're great and really beautiful and I think, you know. We could be good together. It'd be fun." Emma shrugged. "Think about it?"

Regina couldn't help the flash of fear that ran through her. Fear of love and loving and losing love, fear of who she could become again if she lost, fear of not being _able_ to love anymore. Her hesitance was noted and Emma smiled.

"How about this? I'll kiss you on New Years Eve and if you don't like it, we don't have to do it again."

Regina squinted at the blonde. "Why does that make it sound as if you would still like me?"

Emma shrugged. "I would. But we don't have to kiss or nothing. Just live and be happy. It's time."

* * *

"Mom?" Henry hesitated at her bedroom door.

"Henry!" Regina called from her place on her bed. She was reading. Trying to read, actually. She'd read the same line over and over again as she considered tonight. If they kissed, what would that make them? Would Emma learn to hate her? Would she try and push Emma away? What if they had no chemistry? She blinked at her son, smiling a little, and drew herself out of her thoughts. "What are you doing here? I thought Emma had you today."

He nodded and, ignoring whatever discomfort he might have felt, came in to flop on her bed. He propped his chin up on his hands. "Yeah," he mumbled, "but she's busy so she dropped me off. And she told me not to tell you but she thought you might be nervous about tonight so I'm here to make sure you're relaxing."

Regina smiled down at him and hugged him. "What would you like to do, then?"

As she sat with Henry later, allowing him to teach her to play this cartoonish racing game, she smiled because Emma had known she was nervous about tonight and she knew that having Henry with her made her less nervous. That was who Emma was becoming – a person who knew those things about her.

* * *

Emma came over as promised on New Years Eve. Actually, her visits had become more and more frequent. Snow didn't like it. The fact that her mother didn't like it made Emma uncomfortable but she kept coming anyway and Regina was simultaneously worried and touched. So when Snow turned up at Regina's door and demanded entrance, Regina swallowed her pride and let her in. She could do that, just this once, for Emma.

Snow flounced into the living room and Regina rolled her eyes, already regretting it. Emma and Henry were setting the table for dinner and, when Snow grabbed Emma's arm, the blonde gaped at her.

"Mary – Snow," she corrected. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you. Come on, Henry, we need to go."

Emma jerked her arm away and grabbed Henry, pulling him against her side. She frowned at her mother. "What the hell, Snow? Rescue from what?" Snow White didn't answer but she didn't need to. A sideways look and Emma realised it was just the same shit all over again where Regina was involved. "Snow, I'm not leaving."

"But,"

"I'm. Not. Leaving."

"Emma!" Snow gasped, looking both worried and angry. "Is she blackmailing you? Is that it? Does she have your heart? Has she used a potion on you?" She took a step closer with every accusation and Emma jerked away from her.

"Enough!" Emma's face was turning red as she tried to hold in her anger. "Is this because of what I said today?" she hissed. "I'm _sorry_ that I'm not the perfect little princess you wanted, Snow, but that doesn't mean that you can fix me or harass my family." She touched a hand to her temple, pressing it to relieve the pain of the sudden headache she had, and sighed. "I'm tired. Get out. Please."

Snow searched Emma's face and slowly left, eyeing Regina. There was a moment of silence and Emma's heart fell to her feet because she knew without a doubt that the night had been ruined, tainted, by this anger. It had intruded into their little haven. And Emma couldn't help but feel guilty, feel that she had brought it. Snow was her mother, after all.

Having seen and been reminded of the lack of trust his grandmother had in his mother, and seeing Emma yell at Snow, Henry didn't feel much like anything anymore and he quietly asked Regina if he could take his dinner upstairs.

"Try not to get any sauce on your carpet or sheets, dear." It was an aberration from the norm, letting him eat in his room, but she could live with it. And she mostly allowed it because she very much wanted to talk to Emma alone. Emma, who was doing her best not to cry.

She waited until she heard Henry's door closed and to talk.

"Do they hate me?" Regina heard. Such a small voice for such a strong woman, she thought.

"No," Regina said as she cleared the table, putting away the napkins and the fine glasses. There was no point to them now. She brought the bowl of pasta and a fork over to Emma and they sat together on the couch. Emma put her bowl to the side and Regina hid a wince. Not hungry? Emma was never not hungry. "Henry certainly doesn't," Regina continued, trying to soothe her. "He's just tired of the fighting." Emma grunted in agreement.

"I don't know why they don't trust you, Regina. You're different now. Everyone gets that but them." She dropped her head back to rest on the back of the couch. "I trust you," she murmured. "Can't they trust me, at least?"

"It's very kind of you, my dear, but you must remember that we have a more complicated past than you could understand."

Emma snorted. "More complicated than the family tree?"

That brought a smile from Regina but to draw attention away from it, she pointed at Emma's dinner and commanded her to eat. "Emma? Why do you think that your parents would hate you?" The question set off a coughing fit as the pasta went down the wrong passage in her throat. Emma downed her water, tears streaming. "An after dinner question then, is it?"

True to her word, Regina asked again after dinner when they were settled as usual in their study. Regina tucked her feet under her on the couch, Emma sat on the floor and leant her back against the chair. At some point, Regina had begun to absent-mindedly comb her fingers through Emma's hair.

"I told her I was going to spend New Years with you," Emma admitted. "She was saying all this stuff about abandoning her and that I should spend it with my family. She," Emma shook her head. "She wanted us to take Henry and have a ball or something."

Regina scoffed. "Yes, I'm sure you would have _loved_ that." Emma grinned. "Did your dress have ruffles too, dear?"

"See?" Emma announced proudly. "That's what Snow doesn't get. You, me? We aren't fighting anymore." Emma turned so she was sitting on her knees and facing Regina, her hands on Regina's thighs.

"Well," Regina said in a slightly shaken voice, "what need have we to fight? You've given me everything I wanted."

As she said it, Regina realised that it was true. She had Henry, she had a friend, she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do with anyone she didn't care for, and she wasn't scared for her life. And that was mostly thanks to Emma.

She looked up at the blonde. "Emma?" she murmured. The woman looked up, having been momentarily distracted by the placement of her hands. "Can I just…" she paused. Emma tilted her head to the side questioningly. Regina pulled the woman up and closer and when she saw understanding bloom in those bright eyes, she closed her own and pressed her lips to Emma's. It was nice. She could smell Emma's perfume and feel the silky hair and the curve of her smile and the light, chaste, undemanding pressure. Yes. It was very nice.

* * *

The snow was _perfect_, Emma decided as she surveyed it with a critical eye. Fluffy but sticky enough to hold together when she rolled it. Yes. Totally perfect. And that was why she leapt onto Henry's bed at a quarter past four in the morning and tugged her yawning son out of the warm house. She waited semi-patiently for him to dress warmly and pull on mittens and a coat and a hat and then she sped off into the huge Mills garden, ready for her snow day. She hunkered down in her hastily built fort and prepared her weapons for the battle.

Emma was enthusiastic, Henry would give her that. But she put way too much effort into everything and she was a bit careless with her throws. That's why she was losing the snow battle so badly. That…and Henry had Regina on his side. She had checked and bolstered his fortifications twice and she hid behind the balustrade and made snowball after snowball for him. It was ages before Emma realised what was happening – that they'd ganged up on her – and by then it was too late. Regina swamped Emma with snow and that was that.

His brunette mother smiled broadly and, pressing a kiss to Henry's forehead, told him that he'd better help Emma dig her way out before she froze. Then she left to prepare hot chocolate and breakfast and Henry couldn't contain his joy. Christmas time was the best, he decided.

* * *

Emma's forehead scrunched with a sudden thought.

"Hey, Regina, does anyone in Storybrooke go carolling?" Emma asked, legs flopped over the arm of the couch. One hand trailed lazily on the carpet. "I haven't heard any this Christmas."

"Not at my house, they don't," Regina murmured.

Emma raised her brows at that. She wasn't exactly unfamiliar with Regina's vindictive side and, finding it amusing, let it slide. She trusted Regina not to go too far with it. So, you know, if the carollers decided to tromp up that well-manicured path to the house they might find themselves suddenly and inexplicably safe at home. Or, perhaps they would find themselves lost in the depths of the forest. Who could really know for sure?

**Hey hope you enjoyed it. I know it's really blocky but it hope you found it fun anyway. I love your reviews and you can always follow me or message me on tumblr at elizadownunder. Happy reading, readers :)**


End file.
